


GASP! Captain America!

by StarsBurst



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Breast Fucking, Clint Barton Is a Good Bro, F/M, In this house we respect Sex Workers, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Porn Video, Porn Watching, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, three idiots watch a porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23463259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsBurst/pseuds/StarsBurst
Summary: It’s 1944, and there’s a criminal on the loose (you, dear reader!), a runaway thief who has evaded the clutches of justice and Captain America for far too long! However shall you escape, when he finally catches up to you?Alternatively: Natasha finds a hilariously cheesy 1940’s-esque porno of “your boyfriend” online. There’s no other option but to watch it.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 116





	GASP! Captain America!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buckysbrat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckysbrat/gifts).



> I wrote this for one of my best friends, Chloe, who requested something with Captain America, set in the 1940's, that involved a spanking. Rather than go the obvious route, I went for comedy's sake, so if you want to get horny from this, you're gonna struggle, my friend.
> 
> Y'all are gonna be reading a hard-core grilled cheese here, and I have no regrets.

_There wasn’t anything that shines quite as brightly as diamonds, in your humble opinion._

_Well, some garnets were shiny, but they aren't as valuable by comparison. Perhaps sapphires? Emeralds? That didn’t matter. Diamonds were your best friend, and you couldn’t get enough of them... which probably explained why you’d accumulated so many._

_You stole. A lot. A lot, a lot. Your apartment was full of shiny items you’d stolen over the years. Rings of varying gems and sizes, pearl necklaces and gold chains, stud earrings and golden hoops. All sorts of jewelry (and the occasional cash from someone’s pocket), all tucked away into a hidden safe._

_You were kind of proud of it, in a way? You worked hard at what you did, sleazy as it was. You had been to every single pawn shop in New York City, several times over; some of them even knew you by name (though you also knew these were the men who wouldn’t rat you out to the police). You had a system - steal new shiny prizes, after you get rid of the older ones you grew tired of - and it worked!_

_That is, until today._

_You’d nicked a pearl necklace off some old lady in the middle of a crowd - definitely not the first time you’d done it, and it wouldn’t be the last - and she hadn’t noticed (the old bat). You walked about five or six blocks, mentally blocking out your route of where to go next, when someone grabbed your arm in a death grip and pulled you into an alleyway. It was a man, who stood a full head taller than you, a grim expression etched into his face, who ignored how hard you struggled to get away from him. You were weaker than him - considerably weaker than him, if his huge muscles meant anything - and you weren’t getting away until he allowed you to leave._

_“What the hell?!” you snapped. Normally, you weren’t one for using unladylike language, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and being dragged into an alley by an unknown man definitely counted. “Let me go, you - you brute!”_

_“Not until you and I have a talk, you little thief.”_

_Why did that voice sound so familiar? You wracked your brain: none of your friends (well, “friends”) had that voice, or had used such a stern tone with you before._

_Once the both of you were in the alleyway, the man let you go, but he blocked off the entry. Although he no longer physically held you hostage, unless he moved, you were trapped by his presence. He was tall, and built like a brick wall, with bright blue eyes and soft-looking blonde hair, slicked back, and -_

_How had you not recognized him earlier? This gloriously beautiful (annoying, meddling) man? He was Captain America! He even had one of his brightly colored costumes (minus the headgear)!_

_Wait… You had gotten caught by Captain America._

_Captain. America._

_Oh no._

_You were going to jail. You were one hundred percent going to jail._

_Shit._

*** ***

“When does it start getting good?” 

“Patience, young Padawan. Patience.”

“I still haven’t seen the new one.”

“Tell Clint, he’ll marathon all of them with you. Now hush.”

*** ***

_“Captain America. I, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”_

_Captain America did not look amused. “I had an elderly woman ask me for assistance, and I could never refuse aid to someone in need. But she told me the strangest thing: a young woman - matching your exact description - had asked for the time, even though she was wearing a watch. And when this young woman walked away, the elderly woman noticed afterwards that her pearl necklace was missing.”_

_Damn it. Snooty old ladies who snitched definitely didn't deserve pearl necklaces. They deserved stitches._

_"I have no idea what you're talking about, Captain," you repeated, your voice firmer, even as you lied through your teeth. "I passed through that crowd, yes, but I'm on my way home from the movies, and my watch is broken. If you don't mind, I want to go home, and I don't appreciate being pulled into an alley and being accused of being a thief!"_

_"Then you won't mind emptying your purse for me, ma'am," he said, giving you a smile that you could tell was fake, "Or if you're not comfortable with doing that for me, we can always take a walk down a few blocks to the police station."_

_Damn it, damn it, damn it._

_Wait._

_The pearl necklace wasn’t in your purse. You’d put it somewhere else._

_Score one to you, none for Captain America._

_(Although given how tight and firm his muscles looked, and even with that stern expression, you were certain he definitely had a higher score count than zero... Wait, no. Don’t think those thoughts right now, not when he was looking at you with that glint in his eyes.)_

_“Here you go, Captain,” you said, handing over your purse. You watched as he carefully opened it - he was surprisingly respectful of your belongings - and removed its contents. A tube of lipstick: a dark red, which you currently had on. A compact. A coin purse: empty (he checked). A small cake of mascara, and the matching wand -_

*** ***

“Oooo! They have period accurate make-up!”

“Really? That’s what you’re focusing on right now?”

*** ***

_A small notebook and two fountain pens. A pack of cigarettes (only five were left) and a decorative metal lighter._

_No stolen pearl necklace._

_Checkmate, Captain America._

_“My apologies, ma’am,” said Captain America, gently putting your items back into your bag, then handing your purse back to you. He looked rather bashful, now that he’d been proven wrong. “I’m sorry for accusing you of something you hadn’t done.”_

_“It’s no problem, Captain America,” you said, smiling brightly to distract him. “I know you’re just doing your civic duty. Am I free to go?”_

_“Yes, ma’am, you’re free - wait.”_

_Wait. Why “wait”? He hadn’t found the pearl necklace, so there was no reason for him to -_

_“Ma’am, were you wearing any jewelry earlier today?”_

_“No.” Which was the truth, but the too-quick response made the suspicion return to the Captain’s face._

_“You weren’t?”_

_You shook your head._

_“There is a necklace clasp poking out of your brassiere.”_

_Like a natural-born idiot, you looked down at your cleavage - where some buttons were undone, naturally - and there was the bottom of the clasp of the pearl necklace, tastefully tucked in between your breasts. You could kick your own ass for being so sloppy, but Captain America looked angry enough to do it himself._

_With a sigh, you reached into your shirt, pulled the (long, long) string of pearls out, and plopped it into Captain America’s open palm. He had no reaction to where you’d stashed the goods, nor did he comment on the disgruntled pout you could feel that was forming on your face._

_This wasn’t fair! Yes, you’d stolen the necklace. Yes, you’d stolen before, and you were probably going to do it again, because stealing from these rich suckers was fun -_

_Where were you going with this? You should’ve been more focused on the unhappy American icon in front of you, staring you down with those blue sparkly eyes of justice, determined to teach you that crime didn’t pay._

*** ***

“Is that look meant to be intimidating?”

“Do you really care about the quality of acting in this? I’m just here to see some tits.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen Peter look more intimidating. While sick… and holding a puppy.”

Natasha laughed. 

*** ***

_“So, you’re a thief and a liar,” Captain America started, his voice rumbling with disapproval very similar to high school principals or father figures,_

_Well, if you were going to jail, you were going down kicking and screaming… Not literally, of course. If Nazis who were trained to fight couldn’t take down Captain America, then you had no chance in taking him in a fist-fight._

_But you could still have a little fun, right?_

_“I’m pleading the fifth,” you muttered._

_“That is your constitutional right, ma’am,” Captain America said, his eyes full of fire, “but that doesn’t make your actions today any less appalling. Young lady, stealing from your fellow man is immoral, and stealing a pearl necklace off of an elderly woman’s neck is incredibly selfish.”_

*** ***

“Part of me hopes he keeps laying it on this thick,” Natasha murmured softly, “but part of me knows his mouth must taste so poorly from all the boot-licking he’s doing right now.”

You had to pause the film so you could catch your breath from how hard you started laughing.

*** ***

_“Captain America, I don’t appreciate or want the lecture,” you snapped. “Either let me go, or send me to jail like the criminal you accuse me of being.” Admittedly, you could’ve phrased that nicer, but you didn’t and it took all of your willpower to not stick your tongue out at him._

_“You are, by far, the most ill-behaved young lady I’ve met in the Great U. S. of A.”_

_“Thank you.”_

_“That wasn’t a compliment,” he growled, and why did that low tone zip through you and go straight to your privates? “In face, given your attitude, I’ve decided that the last place I’m going to send you is jail.”_

_Really? “Really?”_

*** ***

“I’m going to send you to Pound Town!”

This time, Natasha paused the film to wait for her own laughter. You weren’t sure if it was because you tried your best impression of this actor’s shitty Captain Tone, or because you were actually funny. Either way, her laughter spurred your own, and it was several moments before she hit the Play button again.

*** ***

_“Of course,” said the star-spangled icon. “I know just the perfect place where you can learn your lesson about theft - and having an attitude!”_

_Without any further preamble, Captain America grabbed your arm - in a very firm, unbreakable grip - and pulled you close. For a split second, you felt a pang of fear. What was he going to do to you? Then you realized -_

_No, no, no, no, no -!_

*** ***

Both you and Natasha started cheering as the Captain on the screen propped his leg against the alley wall and forcefully tossed the thief over his knee. The gal on the screen - who had the vaguest of resemblance to you, in the way that many porn stars “reminded” people of someone they knew, without _actually_ resembling them - let out an unladylike yell, but it was drowned out your own cheers. 

Your cheering only grew louder when Captain America - who had the blonde hair, blue eyes and muscles, but otherwise did not resemble your boyfriend (he didn’t even have the beard!) - lifted the thief’s skirt, revealing a pair of black panties that definitely were not period appropriate.

“Were thongs around in the 40’s?” Natasha wondered aloud.

“No, but it makes the actor’s job easier,” you replied as the thief pleaded with Captain America that she’d never, ever steal again if he didn’t punish her this way. Rather than reply, he immediately started the spanking.

Only for you and Natasha to boo loudly when the smacks were obviously more sexual and less about actual punishment. What the hell?

“Hit her like you mean it!” you shouted at the television, and from behind, you heard -

“Are you guys watching wrestling without me? Low blow - HOLY!”

It took everything in your willpower to keep from laughing at Clint’s wide-eyed, jaw dropped face (Natasha didn’t bother holding it in) as he took in what was before him: his best friend, and the newest Avenger, watching what was obviously a porn about their leader and some random girl. And the two of you were clearly okay with it.

“How much have I missed?” Clint asked when he found his tongue, sitting himself on Natasha’s open side.

“He caught a thief stealing a pearl necklace, and it was in her tiddies,” you answered.

“Awesome!” 

*** ***

_After about forty smacks, which only turned her skin a light pink (the faintest pink), Captain America hauled the thief onto her feet, which revealed a teary-eyed and remorseful expression… Sort of. It was probably there, underneath the obvious horniness in her eyes._

_“Now, young lady, have you learned your lesson about theft? And treating your fellow man with respect?”_

_“Yes, Captain, I have,” she said, and her voice was dripping with that level of equal parts corniness and horniness that only porn stars possessed. “I won’t ever steal from anyone ever again, I promise. Scout’s honor.”_

_“Scout’s honor, huh? That’s a mighty serious promise, ma’am. Almost as serious as swearing on the Bible.”_

*** ***

You and Clint both put your hands over your mouths to keep from laughing aloud.

_“But I meant it, Captain!”_ the woman on screen squealed, pressing herself as close as she could without her chest touching his. And unlike the actual Captain, who would’ve awkwardly looked anywhere but her cleavage, this Sam’s Club knockoff couldn’t take his eyes off her breasts. _“In fact, I want to prove it to you! I want to show you how grateful I am that you’ve taught me a lesson!”_

_“Here it is,”_ Clint said. Natasha shushed him. 

As the porn star got onto her knees and reached for his belt, you squealed, “Fuck her mouth! Fuck her mouth!”

“... Why didn’t you shush her?!”

“Because _she’s_ not annoying. Shush,” Natasha commanded. 

Of course, at that moment, you let out a loud groan as the thief started to unbutton her top.

“Not a tiddie fuck! Fuck her mouth! I’m here to see a _sloppy blowjob_ , dammit!”

But there was no sloppy blowjob, and you pouted as the porn star instead started to rub the not-so-doppelganger Captain America’s flaccid genitalia between her enormous breasts. 

“Wow, he…. really doesn’t seem to be enjoying this, does he?” Natasha wondered aloud, as the stereotypical masculine sounds of _“Oh yeah,”_ started to fill the room. “He is not hard at all. Not even a little.”

“What could get a man harder than an ice cold serving of justice?” Clint joked.

“If that winds up being actual dialogue, I’m punching you in the balls."

“... Is it just me, or are her nipples funny-looking?” you wondered aloud.

“They’re just larger than normal,” Natasha commented.

_“Ohh, Captain America, your cock feels so good!”_

“What are you three watching?!”

Oh, no. Not now. 

You whipped your head around to see poor Steve, whose confused expression and dark blush gave his embarrassment away. You couldn’t help but laugh, and you could see Natasha’s all-knowing grin from the corner of your eye. 

“What?” Clint feigned ignorance.

_“Oooooo, Captain America!”_

Somehow, Steve blushed even harder. “Why?!”

“We wanted to appreciate one of your films, Stevie,” you claimed innocently. “I’ve seen all the bond reels!”

Steve shot a softened glare your way, and you struggled to keep your poker face.

A popular date night choice for the two of you was to visit museums: you enjoyed it, as did Steve (who often used it as a tool to learn more about what he’d missed, or to point out the occasional inaccuracy). During one trip to the Smithsonian, they’d been showing all of the films Steve had made to encourage selling bonds, and yes, you’d sat there for half of the day as Steve tried not to squirm too much. (Each film had only been about thirty to forty-five minutes, but there had been a fair few of them… And yes, they’d been as cheesy as this porno, but with far more good intent.)

“That isn’t me, that’s -”

“A shitty impersonator, I’ll tell you what,” Clint interjected.

“Is this something you three frequently do together? Watch this - these sort of _films_ about your teammates without telling them?” Given Steve’s tone when he said _films_ , however, made it obvious that he didn’t consider pornography to be true cinema. 

“No,” said Natasha, as you replied, “Not usually.” Then you three all looked at Clint.

“My wife asks me to watch sometimes. Sue me.”

“I love Laura, but you’re a goblin, Clint.”

“We’re just expressing our admiration of you, Steve, by appreciating another’s contribution to the art world, that was made in your honor,” you said with a straight face (somehow).

“Uh-huh.”

_“The only thing that’s harder than I am right now, young lady, is a hard dosage of justice.”_

“OW!” 

“I warned you.”


End file.
